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Saturday, 13 October 2012

Sad Poetry

I need sad poetry like other people
Need tea in the afternoon
It burns my tongue as I write
Leaving it numb which is good
As I talk far too much
And in hindsight my happiness seems
Unnatural and misplaced
Sad poetry brings me back down to reality
Where pain exists and this life of toil is it
And my sadness is a murky green stream
Black water glides quickly over stones and
Dead leaves are falling , trees are bare , exposed
There is beauty for those who seek it, such that
These verses fail to grip
For the view from this train is fast decaying
As we travel beyond our place
To where my poetry beckons to me
It is but a reminder of our sorrows
So that in tomorrow we may confide
The day, oh glorious day,
when that stream of distress runs dry